Red King is a loving skirmish of a story, a godforsaken dream with theological underpinnings. At just twenty-two pages, the text—rich in symbol and Joyceanisms—is startlingly concise, considering the time-warped ancestral song at its core; Mudd’s narrative is unfinished insomuch as a dream is an unfinished sequence of unfinished images. As clay in the poet’s hands, we become the King whose color is Red: strange, sonorous, sympathetic, irrevocable.
“A chorus call of nothing is given structures, October is given to nothing timely. Another song is given after there is resting and never another reason to arise. A body is given to paradise. I am given to you and we become they we are given a book they give to the sky. In the end, I forget what even transpired, but given a moment, I can recall I want more. Material crumb trail reminds of everything."
— Matt Clifford (introduction)
“Quoniam de ciuitatis utriusque, terrenae scilicet et caelestis, debitis finibus deinceps mihi uideo disputandum: prius exponenda sunt, quantum operis huius terminandi ratio patitur, argumenta mortalium, quibus sibi ipsi beatitudinem facere in huius uitae infelicitate moliti sunt, ut ab eorum rebus uanis spes nostra quid differat, quam Deus nobis dedit, et res ipsa, hoc est uera beatitudo, quam dabit, non tantum auctoritate diuina, sed adhibita etiam ratione, qualem propter infideles possumus adhibere, clarescat. De finibus enim bonorum et malorum multa et multipliciter inter se philosophi disputarunt; quam quaestionem maxima intentione uersantes inuenire conati sunt, qui efficiat hominem beatum.”
AUGUSTINI DE CIVITATE DEI LIBER XIX